Cutting Christmas Cake

I'm the baker not the cook. My sister does all the cooking and I bake, bake, bake. It's enjoyable.

*COME CLOSER I HAVE A SECRET TO TELL-
I don't eat everything I bake because the idea of cooked fruit makes me want to scream. That means pies are a NO. NO! THAT'S IT, THAT'S THE SECRET...

Moving on...I try or create a new recipe every year and there are the staples like pineapple upside down cake and the occasional apple pie (I'm told I make a 'mean' apple pie but I'll never know if that's true). Outside of those two and whatever recipe I decide to try or create the additional requests vary from year to year. At one point during the holidays I couldn't bake enough sweet potato cheese cake. That time period has come and gone.

I haven't made a sweet potato cheese cake in a minute and I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. Why? There's a new kid on the block. Ladies and gentlemen I am happy to introduce my new baby THE CINAMMON BUTTER CAKE. Trust me it's divine. ANYTHING WITH CINAMMON IS DIVINE; OKAY MOST THINGS WITH CINAMMON ARE DIVINE.

The fact that it has to sit for 24 hours should tell you something…this time allows all the cinnamon and butter goodness to seep in and the cake becomes more and more moist as each hour passes. If people could resist it for an entire day after the initial 24 hours, their taste buds would be in store for a moment with the sun. Yes, this cake will make you see nothing but light. Matter of fact it's a full body experience when you eat this cake. Ask anyone who has tried it.

For example- I made one for Thanksgiving dinner. The following day my sister had to go to work. She was at the office but she only had the Cinnamon Butter baby on her mind. She called the house to say she had dibs on the remaining slice of cake. Her action proved my point: it's YUMMY! It will make you stop whatever you are doing to claim a slice…

It's 3:58AM on Christmas Eve. I just put a cake in the oven that will be cut on Christmas day… while I was mixing the batter I had to admit that baking is manual labor. I actually tried to calculate how many calories I was burning as I alternated the dry and liquid ingredients… mind you I was using an electric mixer. People used to and still mix batter by hand. WHAT THE WHAT! It's challenging enough with my bootleg electrical mixer I can't imagine-WELL THAT'S A LIE; I CAN IMAGINE. MY LOVE FOR BAKING BEGAN BEFORE I WAS ALLOWED TO USE ANYTHING ELECTRICAL…SO I HAVE MIXED MANY BATCHES OF MANY THINGS BY HAND…YEAH, I PASS. I DON'T WANT TO DO THAT EVER AGAIN…

I can't wait for Christmas and I can't wait to cut the cake.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!

Thoughts...

Random as they may be...these are the things on my mind at present...

I am wondering why folks would defend and fight for a minstrel show to re-open on Broadway.

I can't wait for Christmas to get here! I am full of the spirit!!!

I am determined to prove to Metch that I am going to stick with this blogging every Sunday goal! (Even though secretly it is 7:41 and I almost forgot to do it today...the first Sunday LOL)

I am not a fan of arrogance.

I love Adam Sandler movies! And Am watching one right now!

I have to pee so I am gonna keep this short.

I am boring myself to tears...and hoping that something exciting will happen in my life (hehehe for those who get why I am laughing) so that I can have something to write about.

MINdog Owt!!!!

Long Time...Again

So I know...I am not as focused as Metch on the Blog right now. I suck...sort of. I have just been preoccupied to say the least.

So here we go. I am going to make an attempt to have something to share at least once a week. I think I can focus on that. Metch will be happy and so will you- all you millions of people I'm pretending happen upon this blog and find it totally entertaining...

Don't be fooled though. This is NOT my first come back entry. This is the prologue, if you will...

I am going to focus on writing a new interesting blog entry every Sunday!

Ready for that? The millions of you who love reading this blog? HAHAHAHAHA!

I for one am thrilled!

MinDog OWT!

Triple Dose of Reverb

Prompt: December 12 – Body Integration This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present? (Author: Patrick Reynolds)

Untitled from Maechi Aharanwa on Vimeo.

Prompt: December 11 – 11 Things What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life? (Author: Sam Davidson)

the list of 11 things is below. how i will eliminate them and how i think eliminating them will change my life are in my head and will stay there until i put my plans for elimination into action. i think that's best.

excess
doubt
unnecessary complication
smiling only on the inside
any kind of clutter
unnecessary restriction
holding back(not the same as unnecessary restriction)
saying yes without thinking
saying no without thinking
grudges
excuses


Prompt: Wisdom Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out? (Author: Susannah Conway)

Teaming up with MinDog to begin this nonsensical blog was one of the wisest decisions I made this year. It has inspired other types of work( joint and independent), helped me commit to living out front, given me a space to share some good pieces(some not so good pieces too) and generally blab about nothing in particular. We are still going with it; it's still playing out and the aim is to have it continue playing out in 2011...who knows what it will become this year...

...along with the wise I made several unwise decisions in 2010. Thank goodness I can laugh at ALL of them. In 2011 I'm hoping my wise decisions will cancel out all of the unwise ones (at least 90% of them...I'll keep 10% for the sake of learning) that way I can spend time laughing at other things...



#reverb10 is an annual event and online initiative to reflect on your year and manifest what’s next. The end of the year is an opportunity to reflect on what’s happened, and to send out reverberations for the year ahead.

Today Party...Next Is Wisdom

Party Prompt: Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans. (Author: Shauna Reid)

This #reverb 10 is something else. First I couldn't find the language to describe my different beauty and now this...

I 'm thinking and thinking and thinking and not one social gathering is coming to mind. I'm pretty social. I've enjoyed myself this year. Good friends, good fellowship, a bounty of outings, lots of laughing, many dresses, minor pains from heels that are too high, lots of lipstick, several jokes that were on me, delicious food, tasty drinks, too much chit chat, plenty of good conversation, impromptu happenings and the like...all social but if I'm honest, no particular social gathering "rocked my socks off."

After thinking about this for a good long while I've decided that this will change NOW. Considering the fact that 2010 isn't officially over I still have time for that event to occur.

AND I've realized every year should include at least one social event that rocks my socks off. When asked to report my mind should be flooded. I should have to decide what I want to share. No, everything doesn't have to rock my socks off. I'm a simple woman and I like a simple good time but the year should include one knock/rock your socks off event...and a simple good time can rock your socks off...SO WHY WEREN'T MY SOCKS ROCKED OFF? Hmmm...

Though I don't even have one under my belt for 2010(yet) I'm aiming for two in 2011. Realization is the key to change...ask me what social gathering "rocked my socks off" this time next year and the specificity with which I describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes and shenanigans will have you drooling!




#reverb10 is an annual event and online initiative to reflect on your year and manifest what’s next. The end of the year is an opportunity to reflect on what’s happened, and to send out reverberations for the year ahead.

Labels Of Choice

Not deleting the post below is a good example of how wise I can be. Who wants to throw a written tantrum twice?

The account occurred many months ago(in May)...posting it was delayed because after writing it I was no longer interested in sharing.. .I thought it was stupid, that it didn't matter and that the moment had passed(as if that's stopped me before). Unfortunately a different but related incident that occurred today has forced me to share this ridiculous post... come on world...REALLY?
-----
from May 2010

He just told me that he is 80% straight and 20% homosexual so he considers himself 100% straight.

"I'm 80% straight and 20% homosexual so I consider myself 100% straight," that's what he said. He just said that.

Okay, what?

Is there a math genius in the room? If so, will you please explain to me how 80% can equal 100%?

I don't think labels are required in life(for the most part). Hey, don't label yourself. Do what you need to do. Live how you want to live as long as you don't cause harm. If you do choose to label yourself, please, make sure the label is accurate.

I didn't ask him what he was. I was confused by the statements he made in succession but by no means did I ask him to label himself as anything...he shouldn't have been surprised by my stunned face when in one breathe he said, " I have been gay, I am gay" and in the next breathe he said, "I'm straight." I didn't know sexual preference was a faucet that you could turn on and off. I'm hot, I'm cold.

Maybe it is. I can live with that. I can't live with the percentages that don't add up. How about you just live your life and keep the percentages out of it?

In the end I guess you can say anything you want to say. I am not judging you. I am confused by you but I'm not judging you.

Please, don't judge my confusion.
-----

Would you have been confused too?

Beautifully Different

Reflecting happens often. Sometimes it’s by choice and sometimes it’s because there's the right amount of silence. Sometimes it’s because I’ve been watching too much Oprah.

When I decided to participate in #reverb10 I was feeling in tune with my inner reflective child; I was feeling inspired.

I welcomed the inspiration to reflect. I had/have to, the end of the year is a pointer finger away (I’ve been pointing at several dresses I’d like to wear for the new year festivities…I’ll probably be found in jeans). Why not get a head start with reflecting on what 2010 delivered and manifesting what's to come in 2011? Why reserve that activity for the 29th through 31st of December? I think the idea behind #reverb10 will do some good in my life. Though it's not required, it will also assist me with writing everyday (if I stick with it like I plan to)...

That's what I thought at 2pm on December 7th when I was drawn to #reverb10's website. It's now 8:30am on the 8th and the prompt for the day is asking a lot of me...you'll see why.

Prompt: Beautifully different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful. (Author: Karen Walrond)

What do I do that lights people up? I greet my 3 year old nephew with open arms and say his name in this funny voice I've created just for him, he giggles and smiles like you wouldn't believe.

I call my mom before she calls me (that means before 7AM) this makes her day.

I hug MinDog (she's very 'huggy'- this is good because I am too…I just never ask for them as often as she does).

I send unexpected random messages to those closest that say, “I’m thinking of you." They love it.

I bake new treats and ask friends and family to dive into the experimental deliciousness (they could be lighting up with fear but for the sake of this post I'll pretend they always light up with joy and excitement).

I've never seen it but I'm 257% positive that when my pen pal receives a letter from me she lights up...

Would it be too much to say that by walking into a room I light it up? Okay, I won't bore you with anymore of the lighting up I inspire.

Now it gets tricky and I wonder if I'm avoiding something. I CAN'T FIND THE LANGUAGE TO ARTICULATE WHAT MAKES ME DIFFERENT AND THEREFORE BEAUTIFUL. Don't get me wrong I think I'm beautiful, I think there are aspects of my personality, of my being that make me different but I can't find the language to accurately share all that I'm thinking and that scares me a wee bit.

Does the lack of language mean I don't know what makes me different and beautiful? If yes, is that ok? Is just KNOWING I’m different and beautiful enough? Do I need to be able to SAY how and why?

I FEEL the how and why.

Unfortunately, I also feel where my thought process keeps leading me is wrong or generic but I’m steadily lead to the same thoughts over and over again. So it can't be wrong!

The thoughts- By default I'm different right? Nobody is made up of my body's experience. Does that make sense?

What I'm saying is this- I'm different because I'm me and I'm beautiful because I'm me and having to break it down any further seems like an exercise in crazy.

Despite the truth in that statement I still can't shake the feeling that I am avoiding something by responding this way. It sounds too simple; too easy.

…this is where my reflection on the prompt brought me...

Already I see that #reverb10 will be beneficial. For 2011 I have already begun to manifest and further my acceptance of simplicity and allowing more of my life, my thinking to be easy...

#reverb10 is an annual event and online initiative to reflect on your year and manifest what’s next. The end of the year is an opportunity to reflect on what’s happened, and to send out reverberations for the year ahead.

The Best Worst Lie I Ever Told

by Julie Rivera

I'm not proud that I told this lie but it had to be done. If I didn't tell that lie I could still be in undergrad because I failed an African dance class.

It was never my intention to lie.

I was burnt out. After a final meeting with my adviser I kicked rocks and threw bottles because he told me I was short 3 credits. I wouldn't graduate in May if I didn't take an additional class. The good news was it didn't matter what type of class I took. After scouring the course bulletin, and admitting that being burnt out wasn't something I could ignore, a dance class seemed like a bright idea.

I knew I could move. On more than one occasion I had been asked if I was a dancer. So, African dance seemed like the right fit. It would connect me with ancestors, it would be fun and live drumming is always grounding.

I'll pick up some moves to do at the few parties left in my college career I thought. I'll have these moves in my repertoire as I leave college behind and re-enter the real world. I imagined being known in my future office as the young, eager, newbie who could work it out on the dance floor. I was ready for African dance class and literally wondered if it was ready for me.

Nobody told me there would be professionals in the room. The professor was supposed to be a professional and the students were supposed to be like me. They were supposed to be first timers. Nobody told me I would be asked to move in ways that would embarrass me if I was alone. Nobody told me there would be so many intricate rhythms that I couldn't hear. Nobody told me this class would be packed with people who could unabashedly move across the floor and get the steps within seconds while I struggled in the back. How did they get each part of their bodies to move in nine different directions at the same time?

I was constantly in my corner spot on the verge of tears. Nobody told me that African dance was hard as hell. All I wanted to do was graduate and maybe get in touch with an ancestor in the process. Nobody understood that. Nobody understood that I didn't want to go across that damn floor attempting to dance steps that I would never know how to dance.

For three hours, every Wednesday, I hated everyone in that room. I was a ball of negativity.

Had the class seemed as challenging and demanding as it would prove to be I would have dropped it and taken square dancing, volleyball or even another art history course. But no, I fell for the easy early days and before I knew it the drop/add period had passed.

Each class was a reminder that there were some things I was not and possibly never would be. I would never be a dancer. I scooted further and further back each session. I stopped dancing all together and became a watcher at parties. I didn't even dare to two step. I did chair dance on occasion but even that stopped as the semester progressed.

In a few months I was going to re-enter the world as an adult and here I was moving backward. I was becoming the shy girl I thought I left behind in sixth grade. I was becoming aware of myself in all the wrong ways. I'll have you know that all the dancers in the class were very supportive. The support did not help; it made me more self conscious and anxious. I loathed Wednesdays. I loathed the fact that I was going to get my first "C" or possibly "D" for a course I thought would be easy. I loathed the fact that I hated people who were rooting for me.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse. Just when I was patting myself on the back for making it through the class, even if that just meant showing up, the professor made the announcement. As part of the final we all had to do a 32 count solo.

She was trying to kill me I thought. Everyday that followed I wondered how I would manage this solo, how I would become strong enough to embarrass myself in front of an entire class. With a lot of hesitation I began to choreograph my dance piece. Since I could only do two out of the many steps we were taught it wasn't as difficult to come up with 32 counts as I thought it would be.

Repetition never looked so bad.

On the morning of the final I threw up. I was sweating profusely and I couldn't keep orange juice down. I couldn't even drink water. I didn't go to class. I didn't take the final. I stayed home that morning and I hid from the world. I was about to fail an African dance class. My degree was on the line. What would I say to the professor? I had to come up with a lie to end the world. There was no excuse for missing a final and what would keep her from saying, "come to another class and do your solo?"

I let the day pass and then I let another day pass.

On the third day I called her office at the perfect moment, when her voice-mail would answer. It was Saturday. I left the following message: "Hi Talu, it's Julie Rivera. I'm in section A of African Dance I. I missed class this past Wednesday. Which means I missed the final. I apologize. I would never miss a final but my dad tried to stab me this weekend. I hope you'll allow me to do my 32 counts on another day."

---------

What's your best worst lie?

Oh, did you miss the introduction to Julie Rivera? Find it here.

When I Watch This...

or hear it...I think about that code word. Ice cream. Do you remember that entry I made on April 7, 2010? It was all about ice cream and the young people who have it. Then I wonder if anybody I know signed this petition today or yesterday. Have you?




---From ONE.org

Over 1,000 babies are born every day with HIV. But the plain truth is this can all be prevented. We now have the medicine and the treatment to stop the spread of HIV from mother to child. We can reach the goal of no child born with HIV by 2015, but it won't happen without you. Go to ONE.org and join the movement. Add your voice to the 2 million ONE members around the world. Together we can stop the spread of HIV from mother to child, so no mother ever has to worry about this again. We're not asking for your money, we're asking for your voice. Go to ONE.org and join us today.

Talking Leads To Celebration

Is my head twice the size of MinDog's or is it the angle of the camera? Of course I say it's the camera angle. Either way this pic is proof that MinDog's long arms are good for something and that true friendship is EXCELLENT!




We just had a lengthy conversation. So many of the topics discussed are important markers in our SHITTY FABULOUS LIVES. In fact the markers were so important(to me) that at two distinct moments I thought our phones were being tapped. Everyone wants access to the top secret information we share. What is one to do? The only logical thing to do is make sure most of the points we touched upon eventually turn into blog posts(with a few name, date , location, and social security number changes of course).

For now the conversation inspired me to share the picture above.

With the posting of this pic I'm celebrating my ever evolving relationship with MinDog. Posting this made me think of another celebratory entry that included a picture. I'm thankful for reminders.


*The day this picture was taken was the same day we went skydiving, turned down invitations to an event that had gift bags because neither of us felt like putting on a heel let alone two, and that night I was stood up for the first(and I predict last) time in my life... I couldn't believe it. We laughed so hard about it as I furiously packed my bags for a short trip... it's still funny ...I'm laughing right now.

Julie Rivera Gives A Little

A few weeks ago I learned that Julie Rivera exists in the world. We started speaking with each other by chance. On the train...go figure. When people speak to me on the train sometimes I listen and sometimes I don't.

I don't know what it was about Julie but I kept listening.

Was it because she referred to her life as a movie? I do that all the time (so does MinDog) . She also likes lists. Her passion for list making is on par with mine(in fact a list is what sparked our conversation). It could have been her boots. It could have been her complete ensemble- she looked amazing. She was intriguing and our conversation never hit a wall. She had more than that certain something.

Remember I had a ridiculous goal this year- to meet at least two random strangers, begin conversations with them and allow those conversations to be the start of lasting friendships…I think I found one of the two.

Dear God, I pray that Julie Rivera is not crazy. I cannot handle another crazy in my life…unless he or she is a kind of crazy that I don't have in the collection yet. It seems that Julie and I were supposed to meet but I HAVE BEEN WRONG in the past.
It's your world; she can be crazy God. She can be whatever you want her to be but please don't let her harm me in any way.
Thank you and Amen.

When we were about to part she didn't ask me if I was on facebook… Because of this and all the other pluses I immediately saw a possible friendship ahead.

It turns out Julie Rivera is a writer, actor, and hand model. I've always wanted to be a writer. I've always wished I could do it well…it's on the list just below dance and just above playing the guitar. I'm an actor, we have that in common. I've never met a hand model before...her hands are beautiful and they feel, no lie, like butter. This is where Julie and I part ways. Though I am fascinated with other people's hands I've always hated my hands. I'm thankful that I have them and that they are functional but I've never been excited about the fact that they are so wrinkled and not so soft. She says she can help me with this.

Julie has also invited me to a session she has on Thursday's with her writing buddies. I will go, eventually. I'm hoping to learn something from this woman. It feels like there is some great wisdom she will share with me.

Below is a piece of a piece she shared with me…after you read it you may see why I was drawn to her. Honestly, I thought I was the only person who created lists that had five and a half points as opposed to five or six…

Julie Rivera is intriguing.

-----

by Julie Rivera

This is the not true story of my faux cinematic life.

I eat comet, sniff markers, toy with the idea of eating chalk and from time to time I consider drinking turpentine and bleach.

No I'm not trying to kill myself. I like the way those things smell. So much so that I often want to taste them. I do taste some of the toxic items. Drinking turpentine or bleach is a bad idea. I'm pretty sure ingesting either of the solutions would kill me so I've relegated that action to my disturbing fantasy world.

I also do anything that is reported to be good for the skin. There was this article that said if you eat only apples for three days your skin will look amazing. I did that and my skin looks the same. I drink gallons of water since that is also reported to be good for the skin. Three months since increasing my water intake my skin looks the same but I go to the bathroom a lot.

I've been considering plastic surgery. On my face.

These days I fast often, work out quite a bit and dream about shaving my head bald only to go out and purchase hair to attach to the hair I dream of shaving off.

This is my life.

It's a movie.

Not a well directed feature length but a shoddy short that doesn't really have a script. It's all one big idea. Not a well formed idea so the improvisation that takes me from scene to scene is basic, lacks excitement and seems to have an end before it even begins.

Can I change this?

That's the question I pondered before falling asleep, with my eyes open, while riding the train yesterday morning. By the time I reached my destination I had ten ways, okay five and a half ways that may do the trick. Five and a half ways to make sure my movie starts before it ends. Five and a half ways to live brilliantly came to me. I initially said ten because ten is the magic number isn't it? I've never heard of a top five and a half list.

The ways came easily. I asked five or six times. Can I change the fact that my movie always ends before it begins? After getting a "yes" in several languages I began to make my five and a half point top ten list that would detail how I'm going to turn my lackluster movie life into a very exciting action based romantic dramedy of a feature film.

While attempting to make this feature I hope I get to save some kids in Guatemala. Stop judging me. Alright fine, I'll start with an American kid, while I make the attempt.

-----

I get a little nervous when I have too much in common with a person. I don't know why. This time I am going to put the nerves aside because I think Julie and I were destined to meet.

A MEDIUM

I’ll try almost anything once. Not food though. I have texture issues and there are some foods that disgust me if I even look at them. If I smell them on your breathe I probably won’t talk to you very long and THANK YOU George for insuring I never go anywhere with you again since you decided that you would eat hotdogs or roast beef or something very meaty and then talk to me without respect for my personal space or the fact that we were in a theatre with live actors on stage…the talking actually didn’t bother me, you were aware enough to whisper, it was your breathe. 

Somehow I feel guilty for saying so, so I added the talking but really it was just your meaty breathe. It turned my stomach, caused me to shut down, shut you out, lose any desire to talk to you and I didn’t know you well enough to tell you…also I didn’t like how you insisted “D” was Mexican though we told you he was Polish so that bled into my issue with your breathe. And I didn’t really care for the criminal joke the bad taste of it also bled into the breathe issue…I think I decided you were the WORST before we even met up that night…sorry...had to get that off of my chest…moving on…

Skydiving. Mountain climbing. Attempting to enter a fitness competition. Hiking in an area not visited often, tackling a bear, wrestling an alligator…I’ll try/have tried all of those and similar things once and come to find out I’ll even entertain A MEDIUM.

I read all about the rappings and the séances and the communion with spirits, the history of the movement/religion and yes I decided to go anyway. I had never been to a Spiritualist Church. After all it’s not as if the members of this church don’t believe in God or Christianity or Islam or Judaism or other religions I am more familiar with…so what did I have to be afraid of?

I am solid in my beliefs so I wasn’t nervous or scared I was more tentative than anything and I decided if “ish” got too weird or someone pulled out a ouigi board I would leave, swiftly.

The service began the way most do, with a prayer. That was followed by singing of hymns(we sang THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE- I love that song). After the hymns we were led in meditation and following that there was personal testimony from two reverends in training…after all of that the service became one I was not familiar with…things went differently…

We sang another hymn that I had to stop singing aloud because I was not familiar with it and when I realized what the words were I got a little uncomfortable…it was something about opening the space to the spirits…you know…not spirit as in Holy Spirit but spirits as in people who have passed on but are still with us…

So it began. The Reverend spoke with people in the church specifically telling them that they had spirit guides who wanted to communicate with them. He then asked if it was okay to deliver the messages. Sitting there I wondered if this was planned, if he knew these people and the wool was being pulled over my eyes…I mean the specificity with which he communicated was astounding.

Garages, dogs, people rubbing noses and stomachs, all kinds of healing was being tended to by these spirits who were communicating. There was talk of children and fields and houses and messages of “you are okay” “you will be okay” “don’t worry” “change is coming.”

And then- the reverend in training. The one with four earrings, the purple “I’m so new age” shirt and nifty glasses, the same man I made eye contact with at the beginning of the service, the man I had a clear feeling was about to speak to me long before he did-DID.

He spoke to me. He said, “the woman in the 6^th row back.” I knew he was talking to me but I turned around anyway to see if there was another woman behind me. He then said, “the African American woman.” I knew it was me for sure since there were only three African American women in the room and I was clearly the only one on that side. I took a deep breathe and when he asked, “May I come to you?” I shakily yet powerfully answered , “yes.” That shaky power thing is a great skill I have.

“There is a large man behind you…could be a grandfather figure...” I thought that was strange since I never met either of my grandfathers. From what I’ve been told my maternal grandfather was pretty tall. Could his spirit have been behind me? “He wants you to know that your domicile situation will change in the new year.” Really? Is this man reading my mind or do people in New York generally want their domicile situations to change so while he was being general it seemed specific? “He also wants you to know that things are going to happen for you very swiftly in 2011 in regards to your career. Things will happen back to back and it will be very fast…I’m getting the name James…”

…

I have to pause here. It’s too much to share at once…I will pick up again…I will tell you more about my visit to the Spiritualist Church of New York City, the Medium, my search for James and the day after…when I do pick up I will pick up with this fact- SOMETHING IS IN THE AIR!

Wise Cracking Cartoon Ducks

She asked and I chose THE WISE CRACKING CARTOON DUCK. I didn't even have to think about it.

Ever since I chose the Duck and was told that most people choose the nest - I can't stop thinking about what my choice says about me. Why wouldn't everyone pick the Duck? Duck vs nest...in my world the Duck wins every time. I also want to know why people look at me strangely. You should be looking at Jess that way. She made up the question. To top it all off she's been asking it for years.

In all the years that she has asked this question I was only the second to choose the Duck. "The other girl was crazy," she said...

Later that night her roommate also chose the Duck. I was happy and stopped questioning my sanity, briefly, in order to continue with the adult conversation that was happening in spurts.

The next day the absurd question was still on my mind. I'm sure that had to do with the fact that I woke up in Jess' nest like loft bed instead of my own but who can say for sure?

You know what that meant...I had to do a study of my own. I was sure everyone else I know would pick the Duck.

I was wrong.

After my festive train ride home that had me wishing my wise cracking cartoon Duck actually existed the first person I called was T-bone. She chose the nest without hesitation. I couldn't believe it. Of all people I thought she would be working with a like thought process-NOPE.

Out of fear of being the only person I know with the balls to choose the Duck I left the question alone for the night. The next day would be a different story...

Now, maybe MinDog shouldn't be the other mind by which I measure my sanity. We have been told that we are crazy(see all the other posts in this blog). All that said she was my only hope. I must admit that I didn't call her first for a reason. I can't really explain it but the answer to the question says something about you. I still don't know what it says...anyway, somewhere deep inside I was afraid that I would be a Duck and MinDog would be a nest and that made me nervous... If I'm definitely a Duck and she's a nest what would that mean? I don't know but it would mean something. I was scared. Scared to ask a stupid would you rather... Could I handle being the only Duck in my crew? Finally I sucked it up and just called.

THE PHONE CALL

Metch: So Min, this is a serious question. For the rest of your life would you rather sleep in a nest, and it can be a plush comfortable nest but it is a nest or would you want to be followed around by a WISE CRACKING CARTOON DUCK?

Min: Uhh...I have to think about it.

Metch: What is there to think about? It's not that serious.

Min: Well, I would have to pick the Duck.

Metch: (squealing with excitement) I PICKED THE DUCK TOO!!!!

Min: Oh good. I thought it was a trick question. I wanted to say the Duck immediately but I was scared you were going to tell me that choosing the Duck means I'm crazy.

Metch: Well we might be. Apparently we are the minority. Most people pick the nest.

Min: Who would pick the nest?

Metch: All the others, apparently all others...

Min: Do you know how great it would be to have a wise cracking cartoon Duck? Wait a minute...can other people see and hear the Duck?

Metch: (out of breath because I was laughing so hard) YES, other people can see and hear the Duck! I asked the same thing...

TWO REASONS ONE SHOULD CHOOSE THE DUCK

1. You won't stop laughing. The thought alone of having a wise cracking cartoon Duck following you for the rest of your life is funny...forget about all the wise cracks! Laughter is great for the soul and your general health.

2. The cartoon Duck will say things you want to say but can't. For example- Your current boyfriend's mother invites his ex-girlfriend to the intimate family dinner. Clearly you can't say anything but your cartoon Duck can ask: What the F*** is going on here?

Now what would you choose and why? Please humor me and say the DUCK... by the way my Duck's name would be Timothy.

To Keep From Wondering

As I turn the pages of this Home Design issue I keep thinking, dreaming of my candy apple red rocking chair. It's beautiful. So are all the wooden, rusty, wonderful things that surround it. The metal. A throw. The brick. All different- warm, cozy, and crisp. Stark but vivid. Naturally I contradict myself. I place the chair in the rooms on the pages and it fits. This chair can be placed anywhere. It's magical, IT'S CANDY APPLE RED, and at the moment it's my calming thought.


I'm all over the place but I'm in my space.


In my head I'm constantly decorating my hole, my hovel, my cave, my fabulous palace. It's never quite right. I have to switch one thing in that room and place another in this area and will I really have a lime green room just for chit chat? Yes, but that means I have to have an all white room for balance but not really white, something like white. I imagine taking over two years to have only the basics in place. I imagine the ongoing fun of getting it nowhere near right.


This activity occupies time and it calms me. It's the run-on sentence in my head…one of them. This is one I enjoy.
I think about hammering, knocking walls down and tiling or watching it all be done and I get excited. Think Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze in Ghosts but it's just me. Mmmm...maybe not. Instead think MinDog completing her recent kitchen renovation-that's more accurate.
All my fantasy decorating and renovating gives me a break from wondering about the following things:

Is daily affirmation all it's said to be?


Is my current daily affirmation (I THINK ALL THE THINGS I AM ARE EXTRAORDINARY) a bit much?


I'm getting older; this means my mother is getting older…


The danger of jealousy...


My evolving sense of humor...


When did I begin to enjoy grocery shopping so much?


When did I begin to enjoy cooking so much?


Wanting to dream about something new and not knowing what that new something is…


Dreams are supposed to grow and change and get bigger and include more…I think…


I start so many things…


I have so many ideas…


I wonder where I will be in five years. I know where I want to be. Will I be there then?


I want to run away to some foreign land, not for too long and only after I accomplish the ever growing laundry list of things I've decided I have to accomplish. Sometimes I think by the time I accomplish them I won't be able to walk anymore let alone run…


What are you waiting for?


I remind myself to live in the moment. I hate that phrase. Live in the moment. It's annoying. Unfortunately and fortunately as a person, an actor, I hear and think it way too often…


Why cyclical? Everything is so cyclical…GEEZ…


Why did I pick up the vegan ice cream? I wish I would have purchased the real deal!


Uggh…

The list goes on of course but I stop there and think of my candy apple red rocking chair. It's huge, its made of wood and I have no idea which room I'll put it in.
Step 1: ACQUIRE THE SPACE…

BUSY!

"Ride Or Dive, Do Or Dive"

After years of laughing at people and wondering why they would take the plunge I am going to do it. Today I am going to jump out of a plane.

When I board a plane I go to sleep immediately because I hate taking off(I'm okay with the in between but I also hate landing)...so this will be quite an adventure. At least I don't have to worry about the landing this time...

When I decided to do this I told all my folks. Here are a few of the responses:

MinDog: I'm going with you. You know I'm NOT jumping but I'll be on the ground to support you. I'm ride or dive, do or dive(we bust out laughing after she makes that statement)...after you do this you are going to be fearless, you are going to be so fearless...


I can always count on MinDog to pump me up.


My Mom: You are young and you should have fun. Just make sure you pray.


This was a surprise. I thought my mom was going to flip out and ask me: Do you think that's a good idea? When did you decide to do this? Why do you want to do this? Is it safe? Have you read all about it? Who are you going with? When are you going? Where do you do this type of thing and are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want to do this? Where did you get this idea? Is Amina going with you? Do you have to take classes first? Why, why why?

I was armed with answers to all of those questions. I was even ready to answer them five hundred times since my mom can't ask a question once. I was ready for all of it but she didn't ask one question. She didn't tell me that it's "a cockamamie idea." That's her favorite thing to say about my bright ideas. It was as if I was telling her I was going to major in theatre and be an actor all over again. I was ready for the worst but received the best. Support.

In the moment my mouth definitely dropped. I was shocked by her simple response. " You are young and you should have fun. Just make sure you pray." All I could say was, "I'll be sure to pray Mommy." Yes, I still call my mother Mommy. Sometimes I call her Mother or Alicia(that's not her name, it's just what I call her...she told me I could never call her by her name so I started calling her Alicia because it's not her name).


Shel: ...use the bathroom several times before y'all go up! Have fun. I want to see the tape.


Classic Shel.


The Sister: Mmmm. Okay.


I told her while we were on the phone and I imagine her shaking her head as she sighed deeply. Wanting me to do it and wanting me not to do it. Mostly, wanting me to do it.


The Brother: You better land in one piece.
At once a command and a prayer.


Yusef: Great! Let fall the things you do not need.


Another prayer!


My Niece: Why Aunty? You have things to do...make sure you call me before you get on the plane.


Since she's like her mother I know she was shaking her head too. After saying that she proceeded to tell me about her friend who has a bruised vagina and rug burns on her knees from being pulled out of the plane while crawling...I immediately called T-Bone who is diving with me so she could hear the story directly from the source...we laughed about it but as I type this I'm thinking maybe it's not so funny...whatever...

I'm young, I should have fun and be fearless...I will definitely pray...I'm praying right now.

Does this count as living out front or stupidity or both?

Video and pictures of the skydiving adventure to come...

*I have recently posted a video of me taking the plunge.

RIDE OR DIVE , DO OR DIVE!